


if that's what you wanna do

by milkdaze (flowerstems)



Series: if you love me, let me know [4]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Earth-2, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 02:10:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6451309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerstems/pseuds/milkdaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patty promises herself, one day she will work up the nerve to come with a boombox, turn the volume up until the music distorts and vibrates throughout her body, and blast Iris’ favourite song until the entire dorm wakes up. Pretty inconsiderate for one of the nicer girls on campus and definitely obnoxious, but it’s a rite of passage she must conquer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if that's what you wanna do

Stealth is the quiet, slow way to move on adrenaline, burn it up in the blood and take the thrill of knowing where everyone else is while moving around undetected. Thrill is the name of the game and it lies in many places. Thrill lies in the chance of being caught by the more seasoned trainees who may be awake at midnight, thrill lies in crossing the campus without another soul knowing, _thrill_ lies in looking up at Iris’ window, seeing the pale room light on, knowing it's on for her.

 

Patty promises herself, one day she will work up the nerve to come with a boombox, turn the volume up until the music distorts and vibrates throughout her body, and blast Iris’ favourite song until the entire dorm wakes up. Pretty inconsiderate for one of the nicer girls on campus and definitely obnoxious, but it’s a rite of passage she must conquer.

 

Tonight is not that night; tonight she's looking up at the pale light dancing and filtering out of Iris’ window as she moves about her room, tonight she's empty-handed, only her holster strapped to her leg with her fake gun, hidden as well as any trainee can hide it under their uniform, and tonight she's throwing the smallest pebbles she can find at Iris’ window. Click clack, pause, click clack, pause.

 

Iris notices, of course she does, she's not at the top of her class for nothing, _she's gonna make a damn good detective_ , and when she opens her window to see Patty waving at her excitedly half an hour past midnight Iris smiles and beckons her closer. Patty walks until her neck is stretched at an obtuse angle and Iris leans onto the window sill, looking like every one of Patty’s favourite dreams, and calls down to her as quietly as she can manage, “You haven't even changed out of uniform?”

 

“I was too excited to see you.” Patty had the chance to change, she just spent it on the internet instead, and from the look on Iris’ face she knows because it's a bad habit Patty's been developing for the past month. Entertainment taking precedence over hygiene so Patty still feels worn and sweaty from training and Iris will probably crinkle her nose then hold her anyway.

 

“I could just let you in through the door, it's not hard.”

 

“Don't tell me you've never wanted to try this,” Patty laughs through the response and Iris dips her head from one side to the next, hypnotic as a pendulum. “Won't you waste your bedsheets on me?”

 

“It's not wasting if it's you,” Iris says as she straightens up and disappears into her room long enough for Patty to start scuffing at the ground with her boots. They have good grip.

 

A long line of fabric tumbles out the window, just long enough for Patty to grab hold of and test her weight against without jumping off the ground. It doesn't feel trustworthy at all but Patty braves it, taking responsibility for her own terrible idea, and she doesn't bother hiding the fact she's terrified as she scales two storeys with a string of sheets as her lifeline.

 

When she pulls herself up onto the window sill Iris takes hold of her hand, giving her time to catch her breath before tugging her into the room then pulling her bedsheets back in. Iris unties them and leaves them piled on the floor while Patty takes off her boots and shucks them in a corner. Iris used about five sheets and Patty will pay for those to be washed, she's the one who used them up after all.

 

“I'll get them washed for you tomorrow,” Patty says but Iris just smiles and saunters over, perfectly put together even in her sleepwear, and she hooks her fingers in Patty’s belt loops and tugs them together. Hands on the thin fabric between Patty’s hands and the skin of Iris’ waist and Patty feels overdressed, a little more than usual, but Iris kisses her before she can say it, mouth warm and toothpaste-minty on her own.

 

“You taste like coffee,” Iris responds, fingering the collar of Patty’s starched shirt, less than perfect now that the day is over, dampened with sweat and heat and fidgeting. Iris smells like something sweet and warm, she can't name the scent, never understood how people could, but it smells so much like _Iris_ and she likes it.

 

“You taste like toothpaste.” Patty smiles, lips curving with Iris’ and she tastes her leftover chapstick on Iris’ smile, feels the filth of the day the more she feels the dampness of a shower lingering on Iris like perfume. “I'm gross right now, huh.”

 

“We can fix that.”

 

“But you just showered.”

 

“I can shower again,” and Iris finishes the conversation just like that, tugging Patty into the bathroom and closing the door the same way she draws her gun at the shooting range, quick and smooth and Patty feels her heart beating in her chest like something angry at being denied.

 

Want beats a different rhythm in her head and drums it down through her body and when Iris steps into her personal space again Patty’s hands slide up under her t-shirt and rediscover their home in the welcoming curve of her waist, the dip of her spine, and Patty has Iris stumbling past the shower curtain and pressing against the wall that's still damp from her first shower. Iris works Patty's clothes open and off, her shirt, her trousers, her holster; when she unclips Patty's bra it's a slow, deliberate movement and Patty tugs Iris’ t-shirt off because fair is fair is fair.

 

She slides her fingers past the band of her underwear, rubs at the bones of Iris’ hips and smiles against the dip between her neck and shoulder when she shudders under Patty's hands. Just at the touch. Patty takes her time showing Iris how much she appreciates her, kissing her soft and slow on the mouth, licking that minty taste out of her, mapping out constellations from Iris’ jaw along her neck, shoulders, chest, lingering between her breasts over her heart beating hard in time with Patty’s, down along the line of her abdomen, the curve of each hip where Patty's fingers find themselves yet again.

 

Fingers drag over her thighs and Patty can hear the hitches in Iris’ breathing as she sinks lower on her knees, guides one of Iris’ legs out of her underwear and over her shoulder then kisses from mid-thigh to knee back up the inside of her thigh, fingers rubbing behind her knees gently. Iris doesn't say anything, just lets out happy little sighs that Patty absolutely adores.

 

When Patty finally gets her mouth on Iris, fingers of one hand working their way into her slowly while her other hand keeps rubbing her thigh, Iris tangles her hands in Patty's hair, tugging and rocking down onto Patty's mouth in careful jerks, as though it's hard to hold back but she can because it's Patty. So Patty licks and sucks and pushes deep until Iris is helpless to her, grinding down onto her mouth and fingers and pressing her back to the wall for support, fingers wound tight in Patty's hair. She sucks hard, curves her fingers up suddenly then spreads them wide and Iris falls apart for her, warm breathy moans stuttering into a hurt gasp that she seems to choke on until Patty leans back and lets Iris ride out her orgasm on Patty's fingers alone.

 

Her fingers slide out of Iris, slick and easy, and Iris slides down the wall and pulls Patty in to kiss her even though she's still trying to catch her breath, pulling away to breathe between kisses. She slides her underwear off her other leg then tugs Patty's off, throwing them outside the shower and reaching past Patty to tug the shower curtain closed. Patty turns the water on hot then lowers it until it's just warm enough, and Iris hugs her from behind, arms wrapping around her waist loosely, hands sliding down her belly and following the lines of her hips.

 

Iris presses a kiss to Patty's shoulder and Patty braces her hands against the wall, hands sliding and struggling to hold her up as Iris nudges her legs apart and pushes her fingers in easily and massaging her clit on the slide out. She keeps working Patty open and mouthing at a spot on her shoulder, pace steady and rhythmic even when Patty grabs her wrist tight and fucks herself down onto Iris’s fingers, would be sentences breaking down to pleas even though Patty can get what she wants and is getting what she wants and wanting more.

 

The rhythm stutters when Patty lets go of Iris’ wrist and leans forward to press herself against the wall, hands scrabbling for something to scratch into as her orgasm shudders through her and makes her legs feel weak and numb under her, Iris coaxing it through and out of her until she feels raw and open. Iris wraps an arm around her waist again, fingers still sliding into her slowly and Patty moans something hurt and appreciative when Iris lets her fingers slip out.

  
Iris kisses her nape and they lean against each other until Patty catches her breath, showering together, slow and dizzy, and they share the towel when they're done. Iris lends Patty some clothes and they fall into Iris’ bed already tangled, Patty nuzzling into the crook of Iris’ neck affectionately while Iris hooks her legs around Patty's at the knees and ankles. They fall asleep with three hours to spare, the pile of sheets bunched messily beside the bed.

**Author's Note:**

> westspivot earth-2/police academy (?) au smut no one asked for yay. for day 4: proposal.  
> one day i'll become a quality writer :")


End file.
